Over-estimating your experience or under-estimating the terrain in a place like Big Bend can result in serious injury or death. Use the information and advice found here wisely. Climb/Hike/Camp/Drive at your own risk.

Although I like the earth roamer and the options it has, the long wheelbase would tend to inhibit some of the places I'd like to take it... Like the sharp turns on Old Ore Road, lolI kind of like eurotrash, even though Australia isn't "Euro".

There’s no official report of how the incident occurred, but from the story we’ve been forwarded the incident unfolded something like this:

The driver was heading down Old Ore Road around 2pm when he came upon a large drop off on the right side of the trail. Weary of slipping off the side of the shelf, he took the inside line. Shortly after his inside tires began to wash out into the ditch. At this point things happened fast, and the driver states he was a little hazy on exactly what occurred next, but it appears his foot slipped off the brake as the truck dropped off the edge, accelerating the vehicle up a rock on the embankment. This forced the Unimog over, trapping the driver in the cab.

Interesting there is no mention of approximate speed. I'll bet that has something to do with his inability to control it, crossing a fairly minor rut in a highly capable off-road monster. I've flopped an FJ40 on its side very gently, and speed played a great part even though it was under 5 mph.

I call it "euro" because of the Mercedes chassis and german origins, but then again, I drive a jeep made by the same parent company, Daimler. Dang, never connected the two till now. But in all honesty, I love both of hose vehicles. Everytime I run into one, I have to stand around and look them over. Really neat vehicles.

My guess is the driver cut the corner to short to the left into the washout area, this dipped the load with inertia swaying aggressively to the left , then the left wheels hit the ramp coming out of the washout swaying the load to the right with even more inertia tipping it over. jmo

My guess is the driver cut the corner to short to the left into the washout area, this dipped the load with inertia swaying aggressively to the left , then the left wheels hit the ramp coming out of the washout swaying the load to the right with even more inertia tipping it over. jmo

The driver was heading down Old Ore Road around 2:00 p.m. when he came upon a large dropoff on the right side of the trail. Weary of slipping off the side of the shelf, he took the inside line. Shortly after, his inside tires began to wash out into the ditch. At this point, things happened fast, and the driver states he was a little hazy on exactly what occurred next, but it appears his foot slipped off the brake as the truck dropped off the edge, accelerating the vehicle up a rock on the embankment. This forced the Unimog over, trapping the driver in the cab.

Luckily for him, Brian Ramay and his wife happened upon the accident just minutes later, finding fuel, oil, and water pouring from the now sideways truck. Upon reaching the vehicle, they pulled the driver out of the now skyward facing window, which can be seen in the lead image above. They checked him over, then proceeded back to a point with cell service a few miles back in order to inform the park rangers of the incident.

About twenty-five years ago, I was by myself, doing research in Appalachia, driving my Toyota SR5 4x4. I was way, way, way up in the boonies on a mountain, working my way up a surprising, newly-graded dirt road that suddenly petered out. The road narrowed to a point beyond which I couldn't continue and it dawned on me that I was heading into a pot operation. I had to turn around, and as I was backing and filling, my rear driver-side tire plunged through the fresh soil of the soft shoulder and slipped down onto the steep mountain slope. I tried to ease out, but everything I did made it worse. I didn't have a winch, so I was screwed. I locked my truck and hiked down the road a couple of miles to the first farm house I found. Knocked on the door, and a young, well-fed and well acne'd twenty-something came to the door, mouth full of chaw. I explained my situation. He stared at me for a long minute, looking like he was deciding whether to help me or kill me. "Okay," he spat out, along with some tobacco juice. He went out back and fired up his John Deere and I walked up behind it up the mountain. With me in the cab of the Toyota, he pulled me out. I offered him some cash in return for his time and his only response was, "get the f*ck outta here now", which I promptly did.

About twenty-five years ago, I was by myself, doing research in Appalachia, driving my Toyota SR5 4x4. I was way, way, way up in the boonies on a mountain, working my way up a surprising, newly-graded dirt road that suddenly petered out. The road narrowed to a point beyond which I couldn't continue and it dawned on me that I was heading into a pot operation. I had to turn around, and as I was backing and filling, my rear driver-side tire plunged through the fresh soil of the soft shoulder and slipped down onto the steep mountain slope. I tried to ease out, but everything I did made it worse. I didn't have a winch, so I was screwed. I locked my truck and hiked down the road a couple of miles to the first farm house I found. Knocked on the door, and a young, well-fed and well acne'd twenty-something came to the door, mouth full of chaw. I explained my situation. He stared at me for a long minute, looking like he was deciding whether to help me or kill me. "Okay," he spat out, along with some tobacco juice. He went out back and fired up his John Deere and I walked up behind it up the mountain. With me in the cab of the Toyota, he pulled me out. I offered him some cash in return for his time and his only response was, "get the f*ck outta here now", which I promptly did.